


Idir Charraig Agustin Áit Crua

by WearMyFace



Category: The LEGO Movie (2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:33:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1491856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WearMyFace/pseuds/WearMyFace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Throughout all of their career, Good Cop and Bad Cop have kept their mouths shut and done as Lord Business asks. They've compartmentalizated their life, their emotions, everything. It may not be healthy, but it gets the job done. Then one day they're faced with a choice. Their carefully-built walls start crumbling down and they find themselves doing and saying things that could have serious reprocussions on them and their parents. Humanized Legos, and it could get a bit dark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Idir Charraig Agustin Áit Crua

**Author's Note:**

> Features my friend's OC. She's a maid who works on Octan Tower. Set a little before the Lego Movie.

966-001 careened down the hall wildly, ruffled pants flapping and strands of hair in her face. It was finally her break and she wanted to put her cart away and get some lunch. She darted down a corridor and the cart tilted up on its side, bottles tipping into the part where she kept the mops. She frowned and tried to skid to a stop outside the closet. 

She tripped over her feet at the last second and fell face-first into the door next to the closet that opened just as her cheek brushed the metal. 

“Ooof!” she grunted as all the breath was knocked out of her. Whoever she'd fallen into was built like a brick wall. Strong, muscular arms wrapped like a vice around her, holding her steady. She caught a whiff of leather and aftershave and looked up into a bright, cheery face with big round glasses. 

“Oh! Ye ookay?” Good Cop asked, worried. “Tha' was quite a nasty fall ye had!" 

She blinked, dumbfounded. He was pretty cute, with his red-freckled face and large blue eyes shining from behind those glasses. Locks of red-orange hair peeked out from under his helmet. He waved a hand that looked like it was easily capable of breaking fingers in front of her face. 

“Dia duit? Anybody home?” he asked, concerned. “Ah didn't hurt ye, did Ah?" 

She smiled dreamily. Oh he had an accent! He was absolutely adorable! Her eyes wandered over his upper body, the only place she could see as he was holding her to his stomach. He had broad shoulders, and a rather dashing uniform with a-she snapped up and out of his arms upon noticing his badge. 

“O-oh, Sir! I-I'm so sorry!” she hastily dropped a curtsy. She had fallen onto the Chief of The Super Secret Police! He was a bit different than she'd heard, though. Everyone who talked about him said he wore sunglasses and a scowl. Maybe he was off duty? He laughed, a happy, bubbly giggle, and put his hand on her shoulder. 

“Yer ookay, cailín! Maybe ye should walk a bit slower, though. 'Round here there's quite a few robots. Ah'd hate fer ye ta get hurt bouncin' off o' them!” 

She curtseyed again. “Y-yes, Sir! Sorry, Sir! W-won't happen again, Sir!” She went to turn and put her cart away, but her stomach grumbled loudly. She blushed and he laughed again. 

“Ye hungry?” he asked. She nodded mutely. “Why doon't ye come ta lunch wit' me? Ye doon't have a security card; it'll be hard fer ye ta get out.” 

She nodded and hastily shoved her cart in the closet. He was right; the security robots did not like people without security passes. She didn't have enough fingers and toes to count the number of times she'd missed lunch because of being stalled. 

He turned and walked down the hall, and she ran to catch up. He was very tall, and her short legs had to take three steps to his one. By the end of the hall, she was struggling to keep up. He glanced out of the corner of his glasses and slowed down. She nodded gratefully. 

“Ah didn't catch yer name, cailín.” he said as they got into the elevator. She flushed as he pushed a button and the doors shut with a cheery “ding!” 

“I-I ah...don't have one.” she mumbled under her breath, hoping he wouldn't hear, but his head cocked suddenly in her direction. Despite the open smile he wore, she couldn't help but feel a sudden sheen of sweat bloom across her whole body. Her clothes felt too tight and hot and she backed farther away from him into a corner. There was something about that look she didn't like. 

“Cailín?” he asked. 

“W-well, not a-it's 966-00-1.” she glanced up at him. “Sir.” 

He frowned slightly, a quick quirk of his lip downwards and the elevator was too small and hot again. Had she given him the wrong answer? 

“Ah.” A look of comprehension dawned on his face. Suddenly, she remembered. Of course he'd know what the numbers meant; he was in charge of all of President Business's robots. She squirmed uncomfortably. “Mine's Good Cop!” he stuck his hand out with a grin. 

She took it, and the tension broke. They were just two people in an elevator going out to lunch. “P-pleased to meet you, Sir. That's an interesting name you have.” 

He laughed again. “It's short fer somethin'.” She opened her mouth to ask what it was short for, but just then the elevator doors opened and he gestured towards them. “After ye!” 

She stepped out into the parking garage and shivered. The cool wind blew through the open sides, making her skin prick up into goosebumps. He started walking down the row of parked cars and she ran after him. 

“Ye can sit in tha passenger side!” He called over his shoulder. “Ah doon't think ye'd like tha back verra much!” He chuckled to himself and she frowned in confusion. Did he not like feeling like a chauffeur? Was his car messy? Had he spilled something nasty in the- She blinked as they stopped next to his car. Oh. Right. He was a police officer. He drove a cruiser. She clambered into the passenger seat and he started it up and pulled out into the warm, bright sunshine. 

“Ye'll like this place!” he chirped, signaling and switching lanes. “They have a bit o' everythin'. Soup, salads, sandwiches, burgers, ye name it, they have it or can make it!”

As he drove, he chattered about various things, the weather, the restaurant, and her mind started to wander, replaying her day so far and hardly daring to believe her luck. She had met THE CHIEF OF THE SUPER SECRET POLICE AND HE WAS TALKING TO HER AND TAKING HER TO LUNCH! She smiled dopily to herself and snuggled back into the leather seat.


End file.
